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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24896728">Be A Man</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manni26/pseuds/Manni26'>Manni26</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Break down, Childhood, Childhood Trauma, F/F, F/M, Growing Up, Jobs, Jonathan Gets a Job, Lonnie Leaves, Loss of Father, Love, M/M, Pining, lonely</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:02:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24896728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manni26/pseuds/Manni26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lonnie leaves, the Byers family seems to change for better, and for worse. While Joyce is struggling with her anxiety, depression, and working more hours than she can handle, Jonathan becomes the man of the house by getting a job, taking care of Will, and putting himself aside.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jonathan Byers &amp; Joyce Byers, Jonathan Byers &amp; Lonnie Byers, Jonathan Byers &amp; Will Byers, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Joyce Byers &amp; Lonnie Byers, Joyce Byers &amp; Will Byers, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Will Byers &amp; Dustin Henderson, Will Byers &amp; Lonnie Byers, Will Byers &amp; Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers &amp; Mike Wheeler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Bittersweet Goodbye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Season 1 of Stranger Things we are dropped into the Byers family and have to fill in the gaps for ourselves of the way things may have happened. This is my interpretation of those events. I hope you enjoy chapter 1, more is on the way! Please leave feedback and let me know what you think as well as where you think the story should go from here!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pre Season 1</p><p>The words ‘I’m leaving’ never sounded so bittersweet. </p><p>The dark, looming clouds gathered over the Byers’ shack-like house in the bitter, clammy September sky as Lonnie grabbed the last of his shit and threw it into his beat-up car. Jonathan and Will spied from the older boy’s bedroom window as their father slammed the trunk closed, glared back at Joyce and offered a few parting words. </p><p>“You’re a goddamn mess,” he hissed with poison on his tong. </p><p>Joyce’s eyes burned with bitter tears, but her mouth offered no parting words for the man she called her husband for fourteen years. She knew she should have seen this day coming, as Lonnie spent more and more time away from home god only knows where, but it was still painful. </p><p>A single mother. </p><p>How could she be a single mother?</p><p>The words played over and over again in her head like songs on a loop. </p><p>She’d never really lived alone before. She’d gone from living with her parents her whole childhood to marrying Lonnie, buying a house with him, getting pregnant, and being a mother. There was nothing to fall back on. </p><p>Lonnie started his car, backed up, and before they knew it he was gone from their lives. As Jonathan and Will retreated back to Jonathan’s bed, Will began to cry inconsolably. </p><p>“It’s gonna be okay, Will, I promise,” Jonathan attempted to comfort the nine-year-old, “he was no good anyway.”</p><p>Will lodged his head into his brother’s skinny side, his tears dripping onto the older boy’s thin shirt. It broke Will’s heart that he couldn’t have a normal upbringing, a mom who stayed home, a dad who treated them with respect and held down a job, an older brother who had friends and a social life. Instead he was left with...well, a mess. </p><p>At nine years old he knew he was different than other kids. His best friend Mike Wheeler had a mom who stayed home, a normal sister, and a dad who though he didn’t talk much, was exactly what you’d expect a proper father to be. He dreamed of having that kind of family, that kind of normalcy. </p><p>“I...I just want him to come back...” he reveled while he choked out the tears that flooded his eyes and cheeks. </p><p>Jonathan was...</p><p>Upset. </p><p>But it wasn’t his time to grieve or feel anything other than responsibility. He was the man of the house now...well, he had been for sometime but it was now official. He’d have to find a job, take care of his mother and brother, make sure the bills got paid, clean up the house, go to school, cook the meals, and do all the things a father should do. The weight of those responsibilities was crushing, but Jonathan loved his family. He was honorable and loyal, and he wouldn’t let himself or his feelings get in the way of taking care of them. </p><p>He was angry, furious that his father could walk out on them. They may not have been the perfect family, but they were his. And though he didn’t treat them right, his mom and dad constantly fought, and Lonnie got physical with Jonathan on many occasions, he had no right to leave them like that. A fire burned in the deepest pits of Jonathan’s soul for the treachery his father caused. He hated Lonnie. Hated him.</p><p>But still...</p><p>At nearly fourteen years old, there was a part of him that wanted to break down and cry like his mother and brother did. He wanted to free the tears, let his face turn that horrible shade of scarlet, and burry his face into someone’s comforting arms. But there was no soothing soul available for Jonathan to go to, and so he could only sit their and cradle Will in his arm. </p><p>“Do you want to talk about it, buddy?” Jonathan attempted to comfort his brother in ways he himself had never really experienced. Will’s tears subsided as he pulled his head away from Jonathan’s warm body. </p><p>“What’s there to talk about? He’s gone and he doesn’t love us anymore,” Will whined bitterly. Jonathan couldn’t really refute his brother’s statements; the truth was Lonnie never loved them, and there was no chance he’d be coming back any time soon. </p><p>“How about we do something that you want...you can pick anything and I’ll do it with you... would that make you feel better?” Jonathan tried. Will pondered the offer for a minutes before speaking. </p><p>“The fort I drew, I want to build it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Building Castle Byers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>To cheer Will up, Jonathan helps him build Castle Byers.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m still working on the direction this is all going in. If you have any comments or suggestions, feel free to leave them below! Thanks!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pre-Season 1</p><p>It was chilly and the sky threatened to rain with heavy black clouds when Jonathan and Will trudged outside to the shed so they could grab the necessary items needed to build Will’s very own fort. With the drawing in his hand, Will looked on as his brother took nails, hammers, and a little saw. </p><p>“Why don’t you grab that tarp right there,” Jonathan pointed out. Will did as he was told, and with their hands full of supplies they wandered out into their back woods until they came across a sturdy tree. </p><p>“This looks like a good one!”</p><p>In silence, the boys collected thin trees to use as walls and sawed them down unevenly. The quietness between the was soothing to Jonathan; he didn’t really know what to say to his little brother.</p><p>He could tell Will that it was all going to be okay, but that was a lie. Jonathan knew there were many hardships ahead, and though they’d never done anything wrong, much of the town looked down on them. Mostly Jonathan didn’t want to give Will a false sense of hope that things were going to be normal.</p><p>Normal.</p><p>Nothing about his family was ever normal. </p><p>In most families, the mom and dad loved each other, but most of all adored their children. Jonathan had no doubt that his mother loved him, but Lonnie was a whole other story. Perhaps part of the reason Jonathan wasn’t too sad to see his father go was because it meant no more criticism and shame. </p><p>No more abuse. </p><p>It was something he didn’t talk about to anyone, especially not Will or his mom. But it was over, so there was no point in thinking about it or crying over it. It was all in the past and there was a brighter future ahead of them, or at least that’s what Jonathan envisioned for his newly liberated family. </p><p>“Can you show me how to use the hammer?” Nine-year old Will requested of his brother. </p><p>“Sure thing!” As Jonathan moved over to where Will was holding a small tree, he felt a few early rain drops splash on his face. </p><p>“All you do is hold the nail like this, and take the hammer and tap it like that. See? Now you try,” he nicely instructed as a few more rain drops fell from the clouds above. </p><p>Will took the hammer from Jonathan and grabbed a nail and attempted to hit it but instead missed the nail completely and whacked his thumb. </p><p>“Owe!” He cried out. Will pulled back as Jonathan came to his aid. </p><p>“Here, I’ll show you again,” Jonathan offered patiently, “if you hold the nail like this, you shouldn’t hit your thumb. It’s a little tricky, took me a while to learn but once you get the hang of it you can build anything!” </p><p>Will missed again.</p><p>And again.</p><p>And again.</p><p>As Jonathan kept showing his brother in the most kind and patient manner, the rain began to fall harder on them. The chilly September storm came complete with icy wind that signaled winter’s unforgiving rather wasn’t too far off. Most kids would have quit at that point, but Jonathan and Will couldn’t. Their project had a purpose, a meaning. </p><p>...</p><p>The afternoon light turned into a dark, stormy night as rain pounded down on their drenched heads. Hours had passed by, so many so that they had no idea what time of night it was but they didn’t care. Jonathan and Will has a goal, and that was to finish building Castle Byers exactly how Will had drawn it. </p><p>It seemed to take them forever to build the shack-like structure, mostly because Will was awful at hammering but it didn’t matter. Jonathan was patient and kind and didn’t rush Will or curse at him for being slow. He encouraged the boy to keep trying, something their father never would have done. </p><p>As Jonathan put the final touch on the shelter, a tarp to ironically keep it dry, Will grabbed the sign he made and terribly nailed it to the front. It read: “Castle Byers All Friends Welcome”. </p><p>“I can’t believe it,” Will spoke up over the loud patter of rain, “it looks exactly like how I drew it.” He smiled and laughed in his boyish way and ran inside of it, dragging Jonathan along with him. </p><p>“It looks great,” Jonathan replied, “I hope this cheered you up. I know this has all been pretty hard on you, and I’d be lying if I said it was going to be easy now, but maybe this is a good thing. I mean, our dad left, things can’t get much worse, right?” The two boys giggled at the thought before Will spoke up. </p><p>“I don’t need him. You’re more of a father to me then he ever was.” </p><p>...</p><p>The boys stayed in the fort for a few moments more before heading back to their house. As they climbed up the back steps and entered they noticed their mother sitting at the kitchen table smoking what appeared to be an entire pack of cigarettes. </p><p>Joyce looked shaky, her eyes glazed in a way that made her look like she was no longer cognitively aware of where she was. It was scary to see her up so late, with deep circles under her eyes and an ash tray full of regret. Will said nothing when he noticed his mom, and instead ran off to the bathroom to change out of his wet clothes. </p><p>“Mom,” Jonathan spoke up after his brother scampered off, and took a seat at the table next to her, “is everything okay?” </p><p>Joyce appeared to be in a far off galaxy no where near Indiana, Hawkins, or her sons. It’s like her life had been shattered into a million tiny pieces, and she couldn’t put them back together. </p><p>“Mom?” Jonathan questioned again. Her eyes snapped back to reality and she gazed at her dripping wet son. </p><p>“Hey honey. I’m fine. Where did you and Will go?” She questioned in an oddly calm tone of voice. It was strange for Jonathan to see her in such a state, but it wasn’t the first time.</p><p>“We were out in the woods building a fort for Will. It turned out pretty good...maybe we can show you tomorrow,” he tried to get her to smile. </p><p>“That sounds nice,” she half heartedly replied. </p><p>At almost thirteen, Jonathan didn’t like to try and boss his mother around, but he could almost physically feel their roles shifting. He cared for his mother unconditionally and he hated seeing her so distraught, especially over someone like his father. </p><p>“Mom, maybe you should go to bed...it’s almost two in the morning. You have work tomorrow and-.”</p><p>“I’m fine Jonathan, I promise, I’m fine. Why don’t you go change out of your wet clothes and go to bed.” Her words weren’t stern or motherly, just obligatory. Jonathan didn’t argue or try to convince her otherwise; he just simply stood from the table, kissed his mother’s cheek and told her goodnight. </p><p>When he was finally safe in his room, alone, he plopped down on the edge of his bed and cradled his head in his hands. After holding in all his emotions from the days events, tears came flying from his eyes and he couldn’t hold them back. </p><p>His adult exterior temporarily melted away and a sad, helpless little boy appeared. </p><p>His father didn’t love him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Breakfast Time Blues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jonathan makes Will breakfast for the first time after Lonnie leaves.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a short and simple story to bridge into the next part of the story. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pre Season 1</p><p> </p><p>Jonathan awoke to find that he’d slept in his wet clothes which had since become stiff and harsh. His eyes were puffy from a long night of tears, and his body shivered and ached. Light came flooding in from the space between where the sheet that failed to cover his window completely almost met the window frame. When he turned his head to look at the taunting alarm clock next to his bed, he read out the numbers “8:48 AM”. </p><p>It was no secret that Jonathan was anything but an early bird. If he had the option to sleep in until three in the afternoon, he would. For years his mother struggled to wake him up for school, often times having to knock on his bedroom door multiple times. </p><p>But things change. </p><p>He glanced at the clock and groaned, but he was the man of the house now. His mom, he knew, would have already gone off to work and he had a little brother to feed. Unhappily, Jonathan swung his lanky legs over the side of his bed, changed out of the damp clothes he accidentally slept in, and crawled his way out into the kitchen. </p><p>On the table sat an ash tray overflowing with cigarette butts, and a half-full coffee cup Joyce must have given up on. Jonathan told himself over and over again that it was just day one, his mother would be fine and to give her the time and space she needed but a tiny spec of him wondered if she really could recover. It wasn’t that Joyce loved Lonnie, it was a major change that she wasn’t ready for. He might not have brought home much money, but the family relied on Lonnie’s measly paychecks to purchase groceries. </p><p>Speaking of groceries, there were very few in the refrigerator. When Jonathan saw only two eggs, three pieces of bread, and a sip of orange juice left he knew that he’d have to get a job and soon. How could he properly feed his little brother with such scrapes? </p><p>It was time to be creative and make Will a tasty breakfast. Though Jonathan’s body ached, his head felt hot yet clammy, and his lungs appeared to be full of rocks, he grabbed the ingredients he had and laid them out on the counter. Bread, eggs, milk...that was it! He rushed to the corner cabinet and found a small jar of cinnamon and a bottle of vanilla extract. Somewhere, in one of the cabinets Jonathan was not yet tall enough to reach, he knew there was a container of syrup. </p><p>French toast. </p><p>Will loved French toast.</p><p>It was one of those breakfasts that Joyce only made on special occasions, and what better way to keep his brother in a good mood than to make his a nice plate of the sugary delight? There was no recipe, but Jonathan vaguely remembered the order and amount of ingredients his mom put into the food. </p><p>With love in his heart, Jonathan stirred, dunked, and fried up each of the three pieces of bread before him, and artfully laid them on a plate for his brother. Two for Will, one for Jonathan: that was okay with him. He didn’t feel like eating much as it was. The little bit of orange juice they had he poured into a glass for Will, and placed by his seat at the table. </p><p>Jonathan had never had coffee before, but he knew they always had a stash of it in the house as it was one of Joyce’s favorites. There was some ,cold, and left over in the pot that he grabbed and poured for himself. </p><p>The patter of little feet on the floor proceeded Will’s entrance to the kitchen, the boy looked pale and congested. </p><p>“Hey buddy,” Jonathan gleefully spoke up when he saw his little brother. </p><p>“I don’t feel good,” Will quickly responded as he sat down at the kitchen table. </p><p>“You don’t look so good,” Jonathan commented, and put his hand on Will’s forehead. He didn’t really know why adults did that, or how they could tell from placing a hand there if their child had a fever, but Will did feel slightly warmer than normal. “I think you have a fever.” </p><p>“You made French toast?” Will sickly observed. </p><p>“Yeah, hope you like it.” Will’s face looked sad, his eyes appeared glassy and morose. </p><p>“Mom used to make this on Sundays for you, dad, and I.” </p><p>Jonathan felt guilt rise in his chest. He made that breakfast for the simple fact that his little brother enjoyed it, not because of their dad. Will looked so upset, and Jonathan was the cause of it all. He felt like ten thousand spears had punctured his heart. </p><p>“Hey hey,” he began, trying to comfort the boy, “why don’t we eat our breakfast, I’ll do the dishes, and then we can watch whatever you want on tv? Or play a board game...whatever you like.” A small smile spread across Will’s cheeks as he gazed up at Jonathan and nodded in agreement. </p><p>Being the man of the house, Jonathan knew, wouldn’t be easy. Days would come where he couldn’t comfort Will so simply, where he couldn’t fix a problem with a board game, tv show, or fort. But it did warm his heart to see his brother smile. </p><p>They ate and chatted about everything and nothing, both coughing and burning with fevers, but it didn’t matter because they had each other.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Birthday Gone By</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jonathan’s birthday is all but forgotten until a few wishes come true.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just another little chapter added in to build the story. Much more to come!!! Please leave comments for suggestions/criticism/so on!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pre Season 1</p><p> </p><p>It had been two weeks since Lonnie deserted his family, and life went on. It wasn’t normal, of course, but it went on. </p><p>Joyce stayed up late most nights, smoking and drinking endless cups of coffee, and Jonathan figured it was just her way of dealing with life as it was. Maybe she needed to go through that grieving process before she could truly heal. He worried when she refused food at dinner time, or the fluffy scrambled eggs that became his specialty for breakfast, but he didn’t push her. </p><p>Will seemed okay, for the most part. His small group of friends, Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, and Lucas Sinclair seemed accepting of the situation, and treated him the same as they always did. It cheered Will up when they group would get together and play D&amp;D, and Jonathan was thankful for that. </p><p>Jonathan was fine. He had to be fine. He searched for a job that would hire him, filled out countless applications, and interviewed at two different stores: Shady’s Hardware, and Hawkins Grocery Market. Still, he hadn’t heard anything back from either. It made him anxious that he didn’t have a job, or money coming in to help his family, but he knew if he kept trying he would get something. He had to. </p><p>When the town found out about Lonnie leaving, the seemed to judge harshly. There were whispers, as expected, but it almost seemed as if the townspeople blamed Joyce, Jonathan, and Will for Lonnie leaving. Sure, he appeared to be a good, friendly man, but they had no idea the monster he could be behind closed doors. </p><p>As soon as Karen Wheeler found out, Mike’s mom, she called and offered any support she could give. Even with a new baby at home and a lot on her plate, Mrs. Wheeler wanted to help. But she seemed to be the only one that did. </p><p>At school, kids were mean. As Jonathan walked down the halls he could hear his peers gossiping about his dad leaving, how it was because Jonathan was weird and creepy. Part of him wanted to scream out at them, tell them that his dad liked to smack him around, call his brother names, and run around behind his mother’s back, but he knew they wouldn’t understand. So he stayed silent and let the rumors continue on. </p><p>September 26 came around like it was any other day. Jonathan got up early in the morning, put on his usual jeans and a t-shirt topped with a flannel, and prepared breakfast for his family. Joyce soon followed behind him as she frantically searched for her keys. </p><p>“Have you seen them?” She called out to her eldest. </p><p>“No...did you leave them on your dresser?” He tried to help as he scooped a big pile of eggs onto his brother’s plate alone with a crispy piece of toast. </p><p>“Ah-ha!” Joyce grunted as she picked up the silver ring, “I got them!” </p><p>She fastened the last few buttons on her uniform smock and wandered over to Jonathan to give him a kiss on the cheek. </p><p>“Alright,” she spoke up, “I’ll be off of work by three, so I’ll see you after school. Where’s Will?” </p><p>“I woke him up...I don’t know,” Jonathan replied as he placed the plates on the table. </p><p>“Jonathan,” Joyce said, voice full of attitude, “you can’t just tell him to get up and walk away, you need to make sure he gets up. Ugh!” Frustrated and late, Joyce paced down to Will’s room to find the boy went back to bed. She woke him once more, grabbed her purse, and walked out the front door. </p><p>She didn’t remember. </p><p>It was Jonathan’s birthday. </p><p>Jonathan was okay with that, especially with everything going on, even he almost forgot that it was the day he turned 14. He and Will ate breakfast, cleaned up, and made the long walk to school. </p><p>In homeroom, the class was rowdy as usual during the morning announcements. He could hear taunts behind him from Tommy H, the most annoying and shitty kid in his class. </p><p>“I hear your dad left, freak,” Tommy sneered, “probably because you’re such a failure.” Other kids joined in and laughed while Jonathan pretended not to hear it. </p><p>“Everyone wish a happy birthday to the following students,” the morning announcements went on, “Allison Adams, Spencer Cameron, and Tamara Thompson.” </p><p>Even his school forgot his birthday. </p><p>But again, that was okay. Birthdays didn’t matter much to him anyway. And why would he need a bunch of jr. high students knowing it was his birthday? They’d probably make fun of him, tell him he’s a loser, and jest about how his dad wasn’t around to celebrate. </p><p>...</p><p>When ninth period English came around, Jonathan was happy to almost be out of school. It had been a rough day, and all he wanted to do was go home and fill out more job applications. </p><p>Mrs. Fitzgerald, his highly overweight English teacher, waddled into the room and gave her usual boring lecture which almost put Jonathan to sleep. Buy the end of the class, he could feel his eyelids grow heavy with sleep. </p><p>“Okay class,” the teacher spoke, “we are going to be working on some group projects this marking period. I have already assigned each of you your partners. The goal of this project is to...” blah blah blah is all Jonathan heard. He didn’t want to do a group project, have a partner, or have to read some stupid book. </p><p>“Here are your partners...” </p><p>Why should he work on some dumb English project when he could be looking for a job, working, and helping the family? Why did he have to go to school, where every kid made fun of him and told him he was a loser?</p><p>“Jonathan Byers,” he heard his name and looked up, “you’ll be working with Nancy Wheeler.”</p><p>Oh. </p><p>Was that fate’s birthday present, or curse? </p><p>Nancy Wheeler.</p><p>He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember...perhaps ever since Will had become friends with Mike in kindergarten. He could remember the day clearly: Will had a play date over at the Wheeler’s house and Jonathan was shuffled into the car with Joyce to go pick him up. When they rang the door bell, an angel with huge blue eyes, long lashes, and curly chestnut tresses opened the door and smiled at him. No one ever smiled at him. </p><p>She said her name was Nancy, and ran to get her mom. From the second she spoke, he was hooked. Will appeared and they quickly left, but the thought of pretty Nancy Wheeler couldn’t be scrubbed from his mind. He kept the crush close to his heart, revealing it to no one, not even his brother in fear that he’d spill the secret to Mike. </p><p>In school she smiled at him occasionally when they made eye contact, but they rarely spoke. Jonathan wasn’t like the rest of the kids; he wasn’t friendly or up beat. It seemed that the further on in school they went, the more they drifted apart. Nancy had her friends Barbara, Ally, and Jenny and Jonathan had no one. </p><p>The screeching of the dismissal bell pulled Jonathan out of his day dreams, and he quickly stood and shuffled out of his English class. </p><p>“Jonathan!” He heard in a small voice behind him. When he turned he saw the angel he’d been dreaming about. </p><p>It had to be a cruel joke, he thought, that he’d get paired up with the girl he had a crush on. Fate had never been so kind as to give him an opportunity to be like a normal teenager. He awkwardly shuffled his big feet around in his beat up converse sneakers. </p><p>“Hey,” he quietly replied as she floated towards him. Her pale blue dress brought out the ocean tones in her eyes, and he had to look away so he didn’t stare. Everything about her was perfect: the way her curls bounced when she walked, the way she carried her book bag, the soft pink of her lips. </p><p>“I guess we should start planning this project out soon?” She told him, her voice as melodic as a flute. </p><p>“Yeah...we should,” Jonathan shyly responded. </p><p>There was a dead silence between them as Jonathan didn’t know what to say next. He wanted to ask her to come back to his house, crack open some books, and make out with her, but he knew he couldn’t say that. </p><p>“Okay,” she broke the silence, “we can maybe plan something for next week. Anyway, I have to get going...my mom has to bring baby Holly to the doctor for a check up.”</p><p>“Okay.” His eyes turned down to his feet. </p><p>“Anyway, I’ll talk to you tomorrow I guess. Have a happy birthday!” His eyes darted up to her face as his cheeks turned the brightest shade of red. </p><p>“W-what?” He stuttered. </p><p>“You have the same birthday as my friend Ally,” she giggled, “it’s weird that it wasn’t on the announcements this year. Anyway, happy birthday!” </p><p>As she waltzed away his heart thumped in his chest. She remembered. The girl of his dreams remembered from the years before that it was his birthday. </p><p>...</p><p>Jonathan gleefully walked Will home, replaying his encounter with Nancy over and over again in his head. It made him so happy that he barley noticed that his mom wasn’t home yet, that there was no dinner made, and that he had to cook for the three of them. At around five o’clock, they got a phone call. </p><p>“Hello,” Jonathan picked up. </p><p>“Hi, this is Eric from Shady’s Hardware, is Jonathan Byers around?”</p><p>“Yeah...um, that’s me.”</p><p>“Great! My boss would like to offer you the stock position down here. The job would start next week. Does that work for you?” </p><p>He couldn’t believe his sudden, incredible luck. First, he got paired with the girl of his dreams to do an English assignment, now he was finally getting a job. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah that’s great,” he finally responded, “thank you so much.” </p><p>“You’re welcome, I’ll let the boss know. You’ll start next Monday. Have a great day.” </p><p>...</p><p>After dinner, when Jonathan was getting ready for bed, he couldn’t help but smile at the bright spots of his day when Will wandered into his room and handed him a folded piece of paper. </p><p>“I know you probably thought I forgot, but I just needed more time to finish drawing it,” Will instructed as Jonathan opened the paper to see an incredible display. In big bold letters at the top is said “Happy Birthday” and drawn on the bottom was a picture of Jonathan, Will, and Joyce. They all looked so happy, and it pleased Jonathan to know that that’s how Will saw their family; content. </p><p>“Happy birthday,” Will told his big brother and gave him a huge hug, “I love you.” </p><p>“Thanks buddy,” Jonathan was slightly choked up, “I love you too.” </p><p>...</p><p>Around 11 at night, Jonathan was already tucked into his bed when he heard the front door open, keys jingling, and the sound of his mother’s frantic voice saying “shit, shit!” In the dark, she cracked open his bedroom door before softly calling out his name. </p><p>“Jonathan,” she spoke quietly. </p><p>“Yeah,” he responded half asleep. </p><p>“Oh honey,” she cried, rushing to his bed, “I’m so sorry. I feel so awful...I stayed late at work to cover someone who called out and...I forgot your birthday. I’m so, so sorry and I’ll make it up to you in any way I can.”</p><p>“It’s okay, mom,” Jonathan was honest, “the day was good anyway. I’m fine. I made some extra pasta that’s in the fridge for you.” </p><p>Tears were in Joyce’s eyes. How could she have such a good son, who always thought of others and put his family before himself? Most other fourteen year olds would have carried on, but he was just grateful to have his family.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Study Session</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jonathan prepares to work on his English paper with Nancy when his self-consciousness takes over.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you like this! More to come!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pre Season 1</p><p> </p><p>They set a date; well,  not actually a date, as one would have it, but a time and a place to meet so they could work on their English paper. Nancy had come up to Jonathan right before their class started on Tuesday and asked him if Friday afternoon at 4:15 in the school courtyard would be okay, and he gladly accepted. They would bring their books, pencils, and notebooks and work the evening away and maybe even fall in love a little bit. So no, it wasn’t really a date, but it could potentially be the beginning of a beautiful thing with Nancy. </p><p>It was a moment he’d been waiting for for so long, and he was going to have her all to himself. It was intimidating, he knew, to be one-on-one with her. He didn’t have the best personality, or even good stories to tell. The only things he knew he could talk about with her were their brothers, and even that would get old after a few minutes. </p><p>On Tuesday, after he came home from his afternoon shift at the hardware store, he plopped himself down on his bed and took out a stack of 3x5 inch notecards and wrote down a few talking points. It seemed a little pathetic when he thought about it, that he was so socially inept that he had to make himself notecards with questions and comments on them to be able to talk to a girl he’d known for years, but he also knew exactly who he was. He was a guy who had a hard time opening up to others. </p><p>Wednesday he changed for gym class and the other boys made fun of him for being skinny and scrawny. They were right, he knew, that he was a very lean kid who was only starting to hit puberty. It made him self conscious, and all he could think about in his mind was “does Nancy think I’m skinny and scrawny”? </p><p>When he got home that afternoon, he locked himself in his room and did as many push ups and sit ups as he could. He found anything he could in the room that was heavy, and lifted it repeatedly in an attempt to build muscles by Friday. He knew it was stupid, but he also didn’t want Nancy to think he was weak. </p><p>Thursday dragged on like a never ending movie, and it was painful to sit through. Literally painful. He’d done too much the day before and his muscles ached so much that by the time he’d reached work that afternoon, he struggled to pick up even the lightest boxes and stock them on the shelves. With every item he lifted, he imagined Nancy sitting at one of the lunch tables in the courtyard, waiting for him, brushing her delicate curls behind her ears and saying his name in her soft voice. </p><p>Jonathan was so happy and excited when he got home from work that he didn’t notice Will’s crayons all over the floor or his mom sitting at the kitchen table, smoking another cigarette and staring at the wall with that dead look in her eyes. He instead rushed to the bathroom to shower, and picked out his nicest outfit to wear the next day. Jonathan didn’t own anything that others would consider to be nice, but he had a red flannel shirt with no holes and a pair of black jeans that he loved. </p><p>Friday morning came and Jonathan’s stomach was bouncing and flipping. He put on the outfit he’d picked out and even spritzed a dash of Lonnie’s old cologne on his neck. Not too much, just enough that Nancy might smell it and remember him. </p><p>He saw Nancy in the hallway between second and third period wearing a pink cardigan and blue skirt and he thought he might melt. By the time English class came around, he felt the anxiety in his stomach reach critical capacity, and he considered he might throw up. </p><p>The bell rang.</p><p>Students exited the classroom and went home. </p><p>Before Jonathan went to go meet Nancy in the courtyard he went to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. His hair was limp and lifeless, his shirt wrinkled and sloppy. The pants he loved were too big on him and he was scrawny and skinny. There was no chance he could talk to her, even with the notecards he’d made.</p><p>After a few more minutes of hating himself, Jonathan nervously treaded through the school to the back door. He cautiously pushed it opened and took a few steps outside when he noticed Nancy at the table with a group of students he didn’t really care for. They were kids that picked on him, made fun of his family situation, clothes, overall appearance. They were sitting at the table with Nancy and they were laughing. </p><p>Nancy was laughing. </p><p>What if they were laughing at him? Laughing about Jonathan and Nancy being paired up, or that his dad left, or about what a creepy loser he was? What if Nancy agreed with all the things those students were saying?</p><p>His overwhelming self-consciousness took over and he turned around and ran back into the school, grabbed his book bag from his locker, and sprinted all the way home. When he entered the house, the stale smell of cigarettes assaulted his nose, and the sight of Will’s crayons all over the floor made him clench his fists. </p><p>Why couldn’t he be like everyone else?</p><p>Why couldn’t he get the girl of his dreams?</p><p>Why did life suck so much?</p><p>He flew into his room and slammed the door shut in frustration, throwing his book bag across the room. In an attempt to comfort himself, he curled up on the chair in the corner of his room and held his head in his hands. </p><p>When Monday morning came back around Nancy approached Jonathan at his locker. </p><p>“Hey, did you forget about our paper on Friday?” She questioned, a tinge of frustration and anger in her voice. Jonathan’s disposition had changed from what it previously was. In the past he would have been apologetic, but he’d realized that someone like Nancy could never actually go for someone like him and so he didn’t apologize. He tried not to feel anything.</p><p>“I know...I felt really sick and went home. You could just work on your part of the paper and give it to me and I can do my part and hand it in.” His voice was depressed and absent of any feeling.</p><p>“Okay...” she agreed. She could see there was something wrong but she didn’t ask. </p><p>It could have been a date, but it wasn’t.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Pack A Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>How Joyce deals with Lonnie leaving, and a brief history.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>One of the things I hope is explored or explained more in season 4 of Stranger Things is Joyce and Lonnie’s relationship, and how it went bad. They hint towards certian things in the show, but I’d like to see more. Anyway, I was inspired to write these because of my current life which is nothing like Joyce’s, but I know what it’s like to be upset about something and not be able to crawl out of that hole. I hope you enjoy, and as always I appreciate all comments! Thanks!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pre Season 1</p><p> </p><p>She looked thinner, her hands were boney and shaky, and the circles under her eyes seemed to grow longer and darker each day. Jonathan learned to properly gauge how bad a day his mom was having by how many packs of cigarettes she was able to smoke through dinner time, and how late she managed to stay up staring into an abyss of nothingness. </p><p>It was difficult for Jonathan to understand how his mother could be falling apart the way she was because the reason was so ridiculous to him. She should have been glad that monster was gone, and yet, she cried bitter tears of unhappiness while puffing away on one cigarette after another. </p><p>Joyce was different, distracted. She worked so many hours that Jonathan and Will barley saw their mother, and when she was around she wasn’t her normal sweet self. She seemed to pull away from her kids and friends. Phone calls from Karen Wheeler offering a friendly ear went unanswered, stories of Will’s day at school went by without comment. </p><p>Exhaustion ached throughout Joyce’s petite body, both mentally and physically. When she closed her eyes in an attempt to sleep, she saw her home going into foreclosure, her kids taken from her, her life ending. The scenarios were so real, so painful that she stopped sleeping and instead drank gallons of coffee just to stay awake. At any moment of the day, she could randomly burst into tears for no explainable reason. Anxiety had a grip on her stomach, and like vines growing on the side of a house crawled up her esophagus until she felt like she was choking. </p><p>She didn’t eat. She didn’t sleep. She almost never saw her kids. All she did was work, cry, and smoke. </p><p>Some days, when the situation she was living was unbearable, the ghost of a thought crept into her mind and whispered the tempting thought that the world would be better off without her. Her kids didn’t need her; Jonathan and Will would probably be more successful and happier without her. It would be so simple. </p><p>It would end the crippling anxiety, fear, and heartache she lived every day. </p><p>She wasn’t always like that.</p><p>Joyce had been a comforting mother with kind eyes that would make you feel like you could tell her anything. She’d hug her sons, kiss them on the cheek and immediately they’d feel better. Mothering seemed to come naturally to Joyce: she had Jonathan not long after she and Lonnie married and she just fell in love with her bouncing baby boy. She enjoyed teaching him new things, challenging him, and most of all loving him. </p><p>When she gave birth to Jonathan, holding him tightly in his swaddling blanket, she gazed into his perfect, dark eyes and knew her purpose in life was to be a great mother. His delicate skin and cute baby sounds made her heart and soul feel full in a way she’d never expected. When she found out she was pregnant, her initial reaction was fear; how could she have been afraid of something so innocent and perfect? His tiny fingers and toes warmed her heart, but it was the connection she felt with her little boy that made her realize that all she wanted in the world was to make him happy. Life had so much meaning.</p><p>Lonnie clearly didn’t feel the same connection, and wasn’t at all the parent Joyce had hopped he’d be. He proved time and time again that he wasn’t responsible, didn’t enjoy parenthood, and most of all had no patience. When it came to watching Jonathan, Lonnie would sit him on the floor and turn on the tv, leaving Jonathan to crawl around and figure out things on his own. If he did something wrong like accidentally break an object, Lonnie would start screaming. </p><p>“I told you not to goddamn touch that! Now look at what you did!” He’d unmercifully criticize his son. </p><p>Then came the insults. </p><p>If Lonnie wasn’t yelling at the boy for doing a task incorrectly, he was calling him a ‘shit head’ or ‘dumb ass’. She knew Jonathan didn’t understand the words his father was yelling at him, but the tone and harshness of his words were clear. There was no love between father and son. </p><p>Then came the hitting. </p><p>It was only once, at least that Joyce had seen, when Lonnie got physical with Jonathan. The young family had gone for a walk through Hawkins and decided to go to the small ice cream shop on the corner street. </p><p>“Here you go,” the teenage girl behind the counter gave two year old Jonathan a small cone with a scoop of chocolate ice cream on top as Joyce held the boy on her hip, “he’s so cute!” Lonnie smiled with pride, a thing he only did when someone complimented him on the looks of his child. </p><p>“Thank you,” Lonnie replied with a sick grin, almost as if he was attracted to the teen behind the counter. The young family walked out in front of the store, Joyce setting Jonathan down to stand with his ice cream and the parents sat on a bench. </p><p>“Be careful,” Lonnie told a wobbly Jonathan who was still learning balance. </p><p>“He really is cute,” Joyce beamed with pride while watching her baby bop around, licking his ice cream. </p><p>“Yeah, I guess he is. I still don’t know why is hair is so blonde...” Lonnie wondered. </p><p>“Your mom is blonde,” Joyce informed him, “I love the way he waddles!” </p><p>“One day this kid is gonna play for the White Sox, aren’t you Jonathan?” Lonnie cooed, not something he did often. Jonathan didn’t seem to care at all for his parents conversation. As he licked the ice cream, dribbles of chocolate slid down off his chubby cheeks and onto the front of his green jumper. </p><p>“Damnit, Jonathan, you’re getting that all over,” Lonnie criticized. The boy looked up at his angry dad, then continued to waddle past him with the treat. </p><p>“Stop, Lonnie,” Joyce attempted to diffuse, “it’s not a big deal, I can throw it in the laundry when I get home.”</p><p>“It is a big deal, Joyce. He needs to appreciate the things he has. You don’t just-.”</p><p>Lonnie’s words were interrupted as Jonathan lost his balance and took a hard fall off of a curb onto the ground. Instinctively, Joyce sprung from her seat to grab the boy. </p><p>“Wahhhhhhhhh!” Jonathan wailed, not because of the big cut on his knee and elbow, but because of the ice cream he dropped. </p><p>“Goddamnit! I told you to be careful!” Lonnie screamed in a voice so loud and harsh, it stopped people walking by. Joyce set Jonathan on the bench to look at his scrapes while he cried hysterically. </p><p>“Do you see what happens when you don’t listen? Do you see?” </p><p>“Okay, Lonnie, that’s enough,” Joyce stood up, “he’s just a baby.”</p><p>“You’re right, he is a baby. A little goddamn baby who can’t listen and then cries like a sissy when he loses his ice cream.” Lonnie was enraged, bent down, and smacked Jonathan so hard across the face that in shock, he stopped crying. </p><p>“Lonnie!” Joyce screamed as Lonnie instinctively pulled back, aware now that others were watching his monstrous behavior, “you...you...” Joyce couldn’t think of what words to use, rather, she picked up her boy and hustled off with him. </p><p>When she got home, Joyce put her boy on the kitchen counter and cleaned his knees with panic in her heart. How could her husband hit their son like that? Over a damn ice cream!</p><p>“Sweetheart,” Joyce spoke up, “what daddy did tonight...how he hit you, that wasn’t right sweetie. We don’t do those things and I’m so, so sorry that happened.” Joyce couldn’t stop wondering if that that was the first time Lonnie had hit their son, Jonathan’s reaction to it had been so strange. </p><p>“Mommies and daddies...they shouldn’t hit their kids, especially not one as sweet as you, my little pumpkin. I need you to promise me if that ever happens again, you’ll tell me. Do you promise?” Joyce was staring right into Jonathan’s dark eyes as he nodded his head. </p><p>“Promise,” he spoke in his adorable little voice. Lonnie would smack Jonathan around many, many more times, but he would never tell his mother. He never wanted her to worry like she did that time. </p><p>“Ice cream,” the little voice spoke up, still slightly sad over his cone from before. Joyce could only giggle and grab a treat from the freezer. </p><p>There was a knock on the door. </p><p>“Go away Lonnie!” Joyce hissed, looking up from her son who was enjoying his new chocolate ice cream cone. </p><p>“Hawkins Police,” came the voice from behind the door, a voice she recognized. When she opened it, Jim Hopper was standing before her. </p><p>“Hey Joyce,” Jim spoke as he let himself into her house. </p><p>“Oh my god, did Lonnie call you?” She spoke up, pissed off while closing the door and protectively walking back over to her son. </p><p>“No, actually someone in town saw your little...scuffle. They just wanted me to check up on you and Jonathan and make sure everything was fine.” </p><p>“We’re good,” Joyce was still annoyed. </p><p>“Hey buddy,” Hopper approached the counter and stood by the boy who seemed happy and gleeful, “is everything okay?” It was hard for Hopper to be around young kids- his heart still burned and ached from the death of his own daughter. Something in Jonathan’s face made Hopper’s soul hurt. Maybe it was because he knew what a shitty father Lonnie would be to the boy, maybe it was because Hopper still had feelings for the pretty brunette he convinced to skip English class one day to go smoke under the bleachers and get to second base. Either way, the situation was hard for Hop. </p><p>“Ice cream!” Jonathan, who’d gotten most of the chocolate dessert on his face, exclaimed at the Cop. </p><p>“I see you have ice cream,” Hopper’s voice was so gentle and kind, it made Joyce melt a little. She would never admit it, but she did still have some left over feelings from their very causal relationship. </p><p>“Cop!” Jonathan seemed excited to talk to Hopper, who was equally excited to listen. </p><p>“He’s a cute kid,” Hopper told Joyce, “I never figured you’d have a blonde kid though.” He chuckled a bit as the boy wiped his sticky fingers down the front of his already stained jumper. </p><p>“...Lonnie’s mother is blonde...!” Joyce was tired of saying. She picked Jonathan up from the counter and set the tot on the floor to go play. “As you can see, everything is good here. I don’t know what got into Lonnie, but we’re fine. It won’t happen again.” Hopper gazed into Joyce’s strong-willed eyes before speaking. </p><p>“You told me that two or three years ago when he smacked you. And he-.” </p><p>“He’s never done it again.” </p><p>“Yeah, but tonight he hit-.”</p><p>“Hop- I appreciate the visit, I do. But everything is fine, and I’d really like to go clean my son up before he gets chocolate handprints all over the house. Thank you for your concern, and if it ever happens again I’ll call you.” </p><p>Unhappily, Hopper left, unconvinced that the problem would never happen again. </p><p>Lonnie didn’t come home that night, and honestly Joyce was fine with that. She was so pissed that he’d hit their son, pissed that he’d knocked her around a few times. Everything kept snowballing in her head until she reached a thought that had come up once before, three years prior when Lonnie hit her for the first time: divorce. </p><p>It wasn’t a word she liked, and she knew it would be hard to afford life without Lonnie’s income, but she was unhappy. He was angry almost all the time, insulting, and abusive. She wondered what growing up with a father like that would do to Jonathan. Would he become the same as his father? </p><p>Early the next morning, after getting no sleep, Joyce sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in her hand, contemplating what her life would become. She could her a car in the driveway pull up, a man’s heavy footsteps approach the front door, twist a key in the lock and suddenly before her stood Lonnie, flowers in hand. </p><p>“Hey,” she heard herself saying softly, not wanting to wake her baby. </p><p>“Babe, I’m so sorry,” he confessed, “about everything. I was so, so wrong and out of line. It’s just...I have anger issues which I know I have to work on...I’m so sorry.” </p><p>Joyce took a deep, cleansing breath. There was so much she wanted to say. </p><p>“You hit our son. You made us into a joke out in public. Did you know someone called the cops because of what you did?”</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Joyce. Please forgive me. I promise you things will be better now. I’m gonna go for anger management so I can be a better dad and husband.” Lonnie sat down next to Joyce, the look in his eyes was sincere. </p><p>“You’re gonna go to anger management?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’ll do anything. I don’t want to lose you.” His words sounded so honest, his demeanor truly different then before. He’d gotten her flowers. He wasn’t drunk. </p><p>Lonnie placed his hand on Joyce’s arm and grinned at her soft face. </p><p>“Do you remember in High School when I used to stop by your locker and ask you what I missed in algebra?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Joyce responded with a laugh at the old memory, “I don’t think you ever went to that class.” There was a sly look on Lonnie’s face. </p><p>“I skipped every day so I had an excuse to go talk to you. I mean, I flunked the class but at least I got to know you. I always kinda knew you and I would...you know...” Joyce giggled and slapped his hand playfully. </p><p>“Oh stoppp,” she responded. </p><p>“Want to go fool around like we’re back in high school?” Lonnie proposed. </p><p>And just like that, he was forgiven. </p><p>And two months later, Joyce was pregnant again.</p><p>And Lonnie never went to anger management.</p><p>...</p><p>So many days Joyce sat with Jonathan, running her caring hands through his golden hair, and wished that Lonnie wasn’t his father. There was a guilt deep down in her soul that she’d picked a bad mate, and she’d punished a child for a lifetime of unhappiness and disappointment. With another child on the way, she wondered how much worse Lonnie’s anger and spending habits could get. </p><p>The word divorce popped into her head again and again, but she was pregnant and needed him. Divorces were for women who had their own stable income, not shitty jobs at a general store, a toddler, and a baby on the way. She felt trapped. </p><p>When Will was born Lonnie was finally happy; he’d been growing increasingly tired of Jonathan who clung to Joyce too much. Plus, Will had the dark hair and dark eyes that Lonnie was so happy to attribute to himself. </p><p>“Yeap,” he commented when he held Will for the first time, “he’s a Byers alright. That nose and jaw. He’ll be breaking hearts before you know it.”</p><p>...</p><p>That’s what Lonnie did, he broke hearts. Sitting at the kitchen table, cigarette burnt down so much, there was only a nub left, Joyce felt the tears run down her cheeks. She loved her kids, she always had, but even they couldn’t fix her broken heart. All the years she wanted to leave Lonnie, all the times he made them feel awful , he ended up having the last laugh as he pulled his car out of the driveway to start his new life in some shitty town. </p><p>As she placed the reminents of her finished cigarette in the ash tray, Joyce picked up her pack to find that there were no more in the box. </p><p>“Goddamnit,” she mumbled. The kitchen door swung open as her two happy boys trotted into the house. </p><p>“Hi mom!” Will excitedly called, running up to his mother with an ice cream cone in hand and hugged her. </p><p>“Hey honey, where did you guys go?” She questioned. </p><p>“After work I took Will to get some ice cream. I got you one too,” her oldest explained, handing her her favorite flavor. Jonathan licked his chocolate ice cream, and Joyce couldn’t help but smile as she remember her chubby-cheeked baby boy all those years ago. </p><p>“Thanks,” she smiled, feeling the hostility and anxiety slip away for the first time in months, “why don’t you boys sit down, and I’ll make some dinner.” </p><p>And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Joyce had a purpose again. She wasn’t just a robot who had to go to work to support her family, a divorcee, or someone to be pitied, she was a mom.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jonathan is afraid of the upcoming holiday season as he knows the first Christmas since Lonnie left will be difficult on all.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pre Season One</p><p> </p><p>It was the conversation Jonathan had been dreading since the day his dad left; one that he knew would stress his mom out beyond all belief. She’d been doing better the past few weeks, but he knew when he spoke those words she’d feel guilty and pressured and be right back at square one: skipping meals, smoking too much, and not sleeping. </p><p>While they were cleaning up the breakfast dishes one snowy Saturday, Jonathan could hear Will and his friends at the dinning room table having the dreaded conversation: Christmas presents. The second Jonathan heard the words ‘Christmas list’, he felt his blood pressure rise and his stomach turn. As he slyly gazed at his mom from the corner of his eye, he saw she had no reaction. It was possible that she didn’t hear the boys, and he hopped that was the case, but regardless he knew he’d have to do something to help his family during the holiday season. </p><p>“I want a turtle for Christmas!” Dustin exclaimed to the other boys, Lucas and Mike laughing at the odd request. Dustin always had an interest in creatures. </p><p>“I want more X-Men comics, and maybe some new action figures,” Mike, who came from good money spoke. </p><p>“Well I asked for a new bike...my sister broke mine!” Lucas commented, remembering when his baby sister decided to destroy his favorite thing in the world. </p><p>“What about you Will, what are you asking for?” Dustin questioned.  </p><p>Jonathan felt his heart beat fast in his chest. If he could give his little brother everything he ever wanted, he would. He’d do anything he could for Will, but financially he couldn’t. Every week since he got his job, he took a small amount out of his paycheck to put aside for purchasing Christmas presents, but the small amount he had saved didn’t add up to much. Guilt washed over him as he heard his brother excitedly tell the other boys that he wanted a new bike with a working head light. Ever since the young boy crashed the bike, the headlight had been banged up and broken. </p><p>“Hey,” Jonathan spoke up as he wandered into the dinning room and saw the kids at the table, “Will, did you show your friends the skeleton you found out by Castle Byers?” </p><p>With extreme interest, the boys flew out the back door, leaving Jonathan alone in the house with his mother. He quickly ran to his room and grabbed the pathetic jar from his desk with his Christmas fund. </p><p>“Mom,” shyly he spoke, arriving back in the kitchen. </p><p>“Yeah sweetie?” Joyce turned around from the sink and saw her teenage son, skinny and exhausted looking, holding a glass jar with money in it. </p><p>“I don’t know if you heard Will and his friends talking about Christmas, but I’ve been saving every week so we could get him something good and-.” Joyce kissed her caring son on the head and gave him a huge hug. He was always looking out for his family and doing kind things. Joyce was so proud of the man he was becoming. </p><p>“Don’t worry about that, honey, I’ve got it all under control.” </p><p>...</p><p>Joyce’s words didn’t settle Jonathan’s nerves at all, and he worried intensely about Christmas and what to get Will. They’d never been kids that got much for Christmas nor was anything too expensive, but he wanted to make sure there were at least a few things under the tree for Will to enjoy.</p><p>He knew Joyce wouldn’t be able to get Will a new bike, and since the cost of a new one exceeded the amount of money he had, he had to settle on fixing the old one secretly. After he took a look at the old bike and went to the discount parts store, he was confident he had the necessary bits to fix it. With the money he had, he could also afford to get Will a new sketch pad, and markers. </p><p>Then there was Joyce. What could he get his mother who didn’t want anything? He didn’t have enough cash to get her anything nice, so he knew he’d have to come up with something homemade. He was taking shop class at the time, and one thing his mom always had a need for was a place to put the keys she lost on a daily basis. That’s when the idea hit it: make a coat and key rack. </p><p>It took weeks of sanding, screwing, and varnishing, but he’d made it perfect. There was even some wood left over to make a small yet detailed picture frame in which he placed a spectacular candid photo he took and developed of Joyce and Will laughing. </p><p>The things he had for his family never seemed to be enough; he loved them so much and though he was satisfied that he was able to come up with a few things, but it saddened him to think that others could have done more.  If any two people in the world deserved to have a great Christmas, it was his mom and brother, and he fretted about it.</p><p>...</p><p>Late on Christmas Eve, after the other members of his household went to sleep, Jonathan snuck out of his room and wheeled Will’s bike in from outside. Step one was taking off all the broken pieces, and connecting the new ones. It was easier in theory and he messed up on his first four attempts, but by the fifth time he’d reconnected the wires the light worked like new. </p><p>Step two was cleaning the bike up. From the kitchen Jonathan grabbed a sponge and some cleanser and began scrubbing the crap off of the bike. How did one kid manage to get so much mud and shit on their bike? Will did ride it a lot, he supposed, but still. </p><p>Step three: finishing touches. Jonathan shined the wheels, fixed the kickstand, and placed a bow he made out of old camera film on the handle bars. It wasn’t much, and it certainly wasn’t a new bike, but Jonathan was proud of what he did. He placed the rest of the gifts he’d come up with under the tree and with a deep exhale of exhaustion, Jonathan wandered off to bed.</p><p>...</p><p>Jonathan was not a morning person, something well established in his family even though he begrudgingly got up early every morning to make breakfast. Christmas morning, however, was different. He loved waking up to Will jumping up and down on his bed ready to open up the assortment of wrapped packages that piled up under the tree. </p><p>That was most years, and this year was going to be different. All night, Jonathan tossed and turned in his bed, fretting about how his family would react to his lousy homemade gifts. Perhaps Joyce would find the coat and key rack insulting, like she couldn’t manage to take care of herself. Maybe Will really wanted a new bike, and if Jonathan had just been a little more disciplined and picked up and extra shift or two he could have afforded one. </p><p>By the time he finally allowed his eyes to be fully opened he looked over at his alarm clock and read the numbers “4:52 AM”. Soon enough Will would go out into the living room and see Jonathan’s pathetic attempt at a Christmas celebration. His stomach ached and twisted the more he thought about it. </p><p>And the more he thought, the more anger built up inside him. Christmas was supposed to be a time of joy and happiness, but for him it was a time of fear and anguish and disappointment. His father left and never called, never cared. Never sent a dime home to help with bills or Christmas presents or anything. </p><p>He couldn’t find it in himself to be happy because his family wasn’t happy. Will had no father, Joyce had no husband and it was painful to think of the difficult world ahead of them. He heard the rumors around town, heard the whispers and lies about his family. </p><p>And then, of course, there was the disappointment he felt in his heart but didn’t want to admit to himself. The clear, unnerving truth that he had a crush on Nancy Wheeler who didn’t even really see him. If he could have one Christmas wish it would be that one day soon she would talk to him, hang out with him, get to know him. But he knew better than to waste a wish on something as silly and futile as that. </p><p>...</p><p>6:11 AM. </p><p>“Jonathan!!!” Will screeched as he burst in through Jonathan’s bedroom door and jumped gleefully onto his bed, “it’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! Get up!” </p><p>The excitement in his voice took Jonathan by surprise; had Will gone out into the living room and looked at what was under the tree? If he did he surely wouldn’t sound that cheerful. </p><p>“It sure is buddy,” Jonathan agreed as he sat up in bed, Joyce waited by the doorway with sleep in her eyes. </p><p>“Merry Christmas,” she managed to get out before a yawn. </p><p>“Merry Christmas,” Jonathan replied. </p><p>“Come on, let’s go!” Will eagerly exclaimed as he jumped off the bed and darted into the living room. Joyce and Jonathan shared a laughing glance before they followed the young boy in to see him ripping through every present. Suddenly, Will’s eyes fell upon the bicycle by the tree. </p><p>“Wow!” He bounced up and down, “is that my bike?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Jonathan answered nervously, “I know you wanted a new one with a working light...I managed to clean yours up and fix the light and-.” </p><p>“I love it!” Will screamed and threw his arms around his brother, “thank you so much! That’s amazing! I didn’t know you knew how to fix things!” </p><p>Jonathan felt red creeping up his neck and into his cheek as embarrassment took over; he wasn’t used to people complimenting him. Wills reaction was so surprising and humbling to Jonathan. </p><p>For a while, Joyce watched Will open his presents while Jonathan took photos of the happy Christmas memories. Nothing made his heart swell like seeing his little brother smile and laugh like nothing bad was happening in their family. It’s like for a moment in time, none of the bull shit mattered. Lonnie leaving didn’t matter, the bills piling up didn’t matter, the fear of their unknown future didn’t matter. For one singular moment, all that mattered in the world was their little happy family. </p><p>“Thanks mom, thanks Jonathan!” Will spoke up as he opened his last present, the markers and pad of paper Jonathan managed to save up for. He reached under the tree and found one more gift, poorly wrapped in green and red plaid paper. </p><p>“I think this one is for you mom...it says ‘to mom from Jonathan.’” He handed the gift over and Joyce grinned from ear to ear. </p><p>“It’s um...if you don’t like it that’s okay...I didn’t know-.” </p><p>“Oh my gosh!” Joyce exclaimed, “it’s beautiful!!! Did you make me a key and coat rack and this picture frame?” </p><p>“Umm...yeah, I ummm...” he was embarrassed. </p><p>“I love it! You are so thoughtful and sweet!” She complimented before jumping up and hugging her oldest son. “I have something for you too, honey. It’s not much, but it’s something.” </p><p>Joyce got up and left the room for a moment, and the idea of his mother spending money on him was almost too much for him to think about. He wanted to leave or hide in a closet, but before he could move his mother walked back in with her hands behind her back. </p><p>“I can’t tell you how proud I am of you for all you do for this family,” she honestly revealed making him profoundly uncomfortable, “and you are such a great brother and son. So I talked to your grandma and since grandpa passed away, well, here.” </p><p>She threw a set of keys at him from behind her back and he had to study them for a moment or two. </p><p>“It’s not the best car in the world, but grandpa took decent care of it. Grandma says it’ll need a tune up, but it’s all your honey. I hope you like it!” </p><p>He’d worried about not giving them good presents, but they were so thankful for everything he’d done. </p><p>He’d worried about his mom not having the money for Christmas or the mental strength to plan it, but she managed to pull it off. </p><p>He’d worried about bills, life without Lonnie, and the fear of the future, but it seemed in that moment like everything was going to be okay. </p><p>“I love it,” he said in his quiet, reserved way. </p><p>Perhaps life wasn’t going to be as bad or as difficult as he had once feared. As long as the three of them were together, he knew, that they could get through anything.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I really just wanted to find a good and sweet way to wrap up the stories on the pre season one section of this fan fic. I think the holidays would always be hard on the Byers, but on Jonathan most of all since he’s so devoted to his family and because he always wants to do for others. Hope you enjoy it, any comments are appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Just Getting By</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just a little set up for this next part</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Post Season One</p><p> </p><p>Will was back, but not really. </p><p>He’d sit on the couch with a movie on the TV, but Jonathan could tell that the young boy wasn’t really watching it. Occasionally he’d laugh, but it sounded forced, like he was only doing it to keep up appearances. </p><p>Will had spent a week in the hospital, and Joyce and Jonathan never left his side; they shared a common fear that if they left, he would disappear. It was just as well, Will didn’t want them to leave either. He loved hearing the stories of how his friends and family teamed up and managed to save him from a near certain death. </p><p>When the week was up and all the tests were done by the hospital staff, he was released and brought back to the home that once held a chilled, frigid nightmare for him. </p><p>He pretended things were okay, but they weren’t, and Jonathan could see that in his cold brown eyes. They held secrets and fears that he wouldn’t revel to those that he loved. So many times the boy would seem to drift off into another dimention, completely unaware of the life around him.</p><p>Then there were the nightmares. </p><p>Jonathan could hear the tossing and turning, screaming and crying from Will’s room down the hall and it was like the cruelest torture he could imagine. Not only did Jonathan see the most disturbing images in his sleep, but he had to listen as his brother’s mind played out the same, if not worse, scenarios. </p><p>Some nights he’d run to his brother’s aid, some nights he’d lay in his bed and press the pillow so hard against his head he thought his skull would crack open. He wished the screaming would stop, but every night it was a cruel reminder that his family wasn’t normal or happy or well-off. They may have not been dealing with the upside down anymore, but it had certainly effected them permanently. </p><p>Something things couldn’t go back no matter how hard he pressed a pillow to his head or begged an unknown, invisible God to make it all stop.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Invisible Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jonathan goes back to school</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Post Season One</p><p>Jonathan presses his shirt for the first time in his life the day he was set to go back to school. He’d been out nearly a month and though his teachers had sent his homework home to him which allowed him to keep up, he had to admit that he missed school a little. Well- he didn’t miss school as much as he missed Nancy, and the only way he could think of to see her was to go to school. He could go to her home, but it seemed to desperate and pathetic. </p><p>So instead he pressed his shirt. </p><p>It was a red and black paid shirt that his mother had frequently complimented him on and though he’d never admit it to anyone, it made him feel good about himself. He hoped that Nancy would notice him, walk over to his locker and start up a conversation, perhaps ask how Will was doing, and set plans to study together or hang in the library or something or the sort. </p><p>They’d shared an experience together that had bonded them, and that meant something. So many nights he thought about that moment in his house, before Steve knocked on the door when he held Nancy’s petite hand in his own and spoke her name so softly, about to tell her how he felt in his heart. If only Steve hadn’t come knocking. </p><p>But that didn’t matter because he had a freshly ironed shirt and a shit ton of nervous confidence that was ready to tell Nancy how he felt. </p><p>...</p><p>He’d barley slept the night before and when he was getting ready and looked in the mirror that morning he saw the dark circles under his eyes and attributed it to the screaming he heard from Wills night terrors all night. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a good night sleep, but again that didn’t matter. His heart beat fast as he combed through his messy hair and buttoned up his shirt. </p><p>The drive to school went painfully slow as the anticipation of seeing Nancy built in his stomach. There was an aching yearning that pulled on his brain as he pulled up closer and closer to the school. What would he do if she was absent that day? He’d never considered that? What if he didn’t happen to see her between classes or at lunch? What if she was tired and didn’t want to talk? The questions were never ending. </p><p>Finally, he pulled into the high school parking lot, put his car in park, and began to fetch his books from the passenger seat when he saw Mrs. Wheeler’ station wagon dropping off the petite girl he didn’t want to live without. From afar he could see her bouncing chestnut curls, pretty burgundy jacket, and girly blue dress as she exited the vehicle and entered the school. It took everything in him to not holler her name as he did in the woods those few weeks prior. He trotted as quickly as he could to the front door and chose to take the path to his locker that would force him to pass by hers. </p><p>As he got closer to the location he knew she’d be, his heart grew and stomach flipped and fluttered with butterflies. Was the the feeling of love that so many of his favorite musicians sang about, his beloved authors wrote about? Was this what drove men mad and forced them to do crazy things? He knew he couldn’t live without her crazy ideas, sassy personality, and brilliant mind. He’d do anything, anything, just to hear her say his name and...</p><p>Then he saw what he’d not considered. </p><p>It stopped him in his tracks.</p><p>Stole all the air from his lungs like he’d just been dropped from the clouds down onto the ground. </p><p>His heart stopped and stomach sunk until he felt so sick he thought he’d vomited. </p><p>There, at Nancy’s locker, he saw his beloved kissing none other than Steve Harrington. The douche who spray painted for all of Hawkins to see that Nancy was a slut. The punk who made fun of his family, implied he was a fag, and said he was a disgrace to the community. </p><p>She chose Steve Harrington. </p><p>And suddenly all the hope he felt turned into bitter anger. After all they’d been through it seemed like she’d forgotten he existed, like he was invisible. </p><p>The bell rang and students parted ways as they traveled to their first period classes and no one in the hallways spoke his name, noticed him, or even cared that he was there. </p><p>He was, one again, invisible.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. A Cautionary Tale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Christmas Eve 1983</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Post Season 1</p><p>Don’t catch feelings. </p><p>If there was one thing Jonathan Byers had truly learned in 1983, it was that catching feelings for a girl out of your reach was more painful then getting knocked down and crushed by a Demogorgan. What was worse, though, was having to watch that stunning, sassy, special girl walk the hallways of his school every day with Steve Harrington, a guy Jonathan would never be like. Seeing them laugh, hold hands, but worst of all, the occasional kiss. </p><p>His life had been such a turbulent mess of horror and sadness, but Nancy getting back with Steve was possibly the cherry on top of the shit Sunday. Nothing ever worked out for him, and even though he’d always protected his heart from messes like this, somehow that petite girl slipped in and made it her own only to rip it out a few days later. He should have known better than to think someone like Nancy would ever want to be with someone like him. </p><p>He was worthless, he wore old tattered clothes, he had a family that in Steve’s own words was “a disgrace to the entire community”. Perhaps it all was true. </p><p>...</p><p>Christmas Eve fell upon them so suddenly Jonathan had barley prepared. With money given to them as compensation from Hawkins Department of Energy, Joyce and Jonathan were able to purchase actual Christmas presents for Will. </p><p>Even though Jonathan’s wish of being with Nancy was clearly not coming true, it did bring joy to his heart to see Will smile again. For obvious reasons, the family did not hang Christmas lights that year but opted instead for a humble Christmas tree and some stockings. </p><p>For most of the day, Jonathan stayed in his room, listened to music, and tried to forget about the disappointment he felt in his soul. No present under the Christmas tree or amount of money from the government could erase the sadness he had. It felt like a part of his heart was missing, and he knew it was all because he let her in. </p><p>At five thirty Joyce asked Jonathan to go pick Will up from the Wheelers, and with a nervous grin he accepted, climbed into his car, and drove down the windey, snowy streets of Hawkins until he came to that perfect home he dreamed of being a part of. He didn’t want to go in; he didn’t want to see her. Over in the driveway he recognized Steve’s car and just knew she’d be on the couch snuggled up with him. He didn’t want to see that. </p><p>Nervously, Jonathan rang the doorbell which was promptly opened by Ted. </p><p>“Hi Mr. Wheeler,” Jonathan spoke in a quiet tone, “I’m here to pick up Will.” Ted, who was no known for his hospitality stepped aside and let the youth in. </p><p>“He’s in the basement, I think,” the older man responded before closing the door and heading back to his chair. Jonathan let out a sign before carefully and quietly treading to the basement stairs. He quickly descended and saw his brother smiling and laughing with the other boys. How happy it made him to see his little brother, a boy who’d been through too much in his young years, having a joyous time with friends. It was an experience Jonathan never really had, seeing as how he’d never really had friends. </p><p>“How was the game?” Jonathan questioned as he climbed the stairs into the kitchen with his brother.</p><p>“Awesome!” Will exploded. </p><p>“Hey boys, wish your mom a Merry Christmas for me!” Mrs. Wheeler spoke as she saw the sweet boys walk through her kitchen. The smell of freshly baked cake, cookies, and roast filled the room and made Jonathan’s mouth water. He appreciated the work his mom put into Christmas and the meal she’d prepared, but he’d never smelled anything as delicious as Mrs. Wheeler’s cooking. </p><p>“Sure, Merry Christmas,” Jonathan politely replied. As they made their way to the door, Jonathan heard the footsteps of an angel trotting down the stairs which made him feel nervous. </p><p>“Hey Jonathan, Wait!” He heard before she appeared with a wrapped package in her hand, and a smile on her face. God she looked beautiful in her sweater and skirt, hair swept to the side and eyes as big and sparkling as ever. She was as beautiful as ever.</p><p>“Merry Christmas,” she spoke, handing the wrapped package over to him. He felt an awkwardness inside of him as he wasn’t accustom to accepting gifts from others. </p><p>“Oh...thanks,” he fumbled, “I feel kinda guilty...I didn’t get anything for you...”</p><p>“No, no!” She almost as awkwardly replied, “it’s not really a present...you’ll see.” </p><p>With those simple words she leaned forward, placed her delicate hand on his beating heart, and lightly kissed his flushed cheek. He could feel the hair raise all over his body, his pupils dilate with excitement. When she pulled back he was still in shock, his body frozen yet exillerated at the same time. Her eyes gazed down at her feet like she’d done something naughty, then back up to meet his stare and the look in her eyes said something. It said that she felt something for him, something big. She searched for reassurance in his face which he gave her in the form of a big grin. </p><p>“Merry Christmas,” he told her before he and Will turned and left the house. Nancy stood in the front foyer and though her mind told her not to, he heart forced her to run to the window and watch her shabby, unique, caring, calm classmate trudge back to his car. Her heart fluttered at the remembrance of the shock in his face when she kissed his cheek. But before she could revel in the moment, she remembered her boyfriend was sitting in the next room, and so she’s have to forget what she had just done.</p><p>The car ride home was silent after Will opened the present for Jonathan. Both were deep in thought. </p><p>Will couldn’t stop the feeling, deep down in the pits of his stomach, that it wasn’t over. He didn’t know what the “it” was, but the bad feelings were looming through this body. His stomach lurched and quivered with the thought that his friends and family were in danger, but he didn’t wish to speak about it. Maybe he was just overreacting. Everyone kept telling him to take things slow, he’d just gone through a traumatic event, and that it would take time for life to return to normal. So, because he wanted to listen to his mother, brother, doctors, and chief of police, he pushed those feelings down and put on a smile for the rest of the world. The kids at school would whisper about him and he’d pretend not to hear it. People would stare but he made the effort to act like he didn’t notice; life would be easier that way. </p><p>Jonathan thought about the kiss, it’s implications, and how he should respond. He was a man of responsibility, not pleasure. He had a family to take care of seeing as how his own father didn’t make any effort to help out. His brother, though he appeared happy on the outside, must have been torn to pieces on the inside. His mother was trying to hold it together, but one hard wind could blow her life apart. Nancy’s kiss might have meant something, but Jonathan couldn’t let his mind go there. He had so many people who needed so much of him that there was no time to feel or indulge in the silly pleasures of teenage life. So he could only do one thing: keep going on the way he was. </p><p>He’ll just have to keep reminding himself that you can’t get hurt if you don’t catch feelings.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was just random but I wanted to add another chapter and keep this thing going. I have a direction I’m going in but am not there yet!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Tale of Two Bob’s</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jonathan listens to the radio and watches as his mother interacts with her new boyfriend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Post Season One</p><p>“The guilt undertaker sighs,” the radio played out in the Byers’ living room, “the lonesome organ grinder cried. The silver saxophone says I should refuse you. The cracked bells and the washed out horn blow into my face with scorn but it’s not that way, I wasn’t born to lose you. I want you.”</p><p>Jonathan sat on the overstuffed chair and listened deeply to the words of Bob Dylan as his song was sung in a duet by two people he didn’t know. He was well-versed in the song as he could remember his grandfather playing Bob Dylan long ago, teaching Jonathan to listen carefully to each word. </p><p>“Dylan is very specific with his wording,” his grandpa would say, “he wants to convey a feeling to you. He wants to paint a picture.” </p><p>It had been a long time since Jonathan had listened to Bob Dylan, practically a lifetime. His grandfather had passed away four years prior and though he had stacks of the old records Jonathan left them on his bedroom shelf to collect dust. </p><p>“I want you. I want you so bad. Honey I want you.” The words were light and airy as they seemed to twirl around in his head. Will, tired from an afternoon trip to the doctors at Hawkins lab, laid sleeping on the couch while Joyce and her new boyfriend Bob danced about.</p><p>Bob Newby. </p><p>Jonathan didn’t hate him, let’s make that clear. How could he hate Bob, he was the dorkiest, most innocent man in existence. He seemed to make Joyce happy and at the end of the day all Jonathan wanted was for his mom to have happiness. Bob cared about Will, and though he was timid about it he also cared for Jonathan. </p><p>“The drunken politician leaps upon the streets where mothers weep and the saviors who are fast asleep, they wait for you. And while I wait for them to interrupt, drinking from my broken cup to ask me to open the gate for you. I want you.” </p><p>Bob had the biggest smile on his face as he held Joyce close in his arms and rocked back and forth with her. She seemed amused by his happiness though not happy herself. Jonathan could see it in his mother’s eyes: a need for stability, something she’d never had. She went from meeting Lonnie, a living train wreck, to getting married, having two kids, getting divorced, supporting a family, and then saving her youngest son from the Upside Down. Who could blame her for wanting something or someone normal in her life?</p><p>Jonathan had always suspected that his mother had feelings for Hopper, but he was a pretty messed up guy himself. He’d been known to have had a drug problem, drinking problem, anger problem, pretty much any kind of problem you can think of. But there was something so familiar about him, a connection that couldn’t be overlooked. Sometimes he wanted to tell his mother that, but he didn’t want to interfere with the happiness she may have with Bob. </p><p>“I want you. I want you so bad. Honey I want you.” </p><p>Bob twirled Joyce around which evokes a bigger smile on her face. </p><p>“Now you see Jonathan,” Bob jested, “one day when you take a girl someplace and she wants to dance, make sure you remember to spin her!” </p><p>Bob tried to be funny and maybe that’s what Jonathan disliked the most. If he was being honest, he wanted to hate Bob. It was because Bob was honest and sweet and tried to care. But it wasn’t just that. It was because Bob had hope, and he didn’t realize that Jonathan didn’t have any hope. Didn’t he realize that Jonathan couldn’t take a girl out because he had to be the man of the house? </p><p>“How all my fathers they’ve gone down, true love they’ve been without it. But all their daughters put me down cause I don’t think about it. Well I return to the queen of spades and I talk with my chamber maids. She knows that I’m not afraid to look at her. She is good to me and there’s nothing she doesn’t see. She knows where I’d like to be, but it doesn’t matter. I want you.”</p><p>It’s like Bob could see right through Jonathan and could detect all of his issues and he hated that. He hated that his mom was allowing Bob into their lives no matter how “safe and stable” a choice he was. </p><p>Deep down, no matter how horrible it made him feel to admit it, Jonathan was resentful that his mother was allowed to have happiness and he couldn’t. It had been right there in front of him but he couldn’t grasp it, and it killed him. </p><p>“See, just like that Jonathan,” Bob spoke as he twirled Joyce again. She looked at her son with a guilty expression as she could tell Bob may have been bugging him. </p><p>“Yeah,” Jonathan said quietly in an effort to make his mother happy. </p><p>“I want you. I want you so bad. Honey I want you.” </p><p>There was a desperation in the song that Jonathan couldn’t ignore, it was like it spoke to his soul. The words “I want you so bad” were true, and he could hear the yearning in the singers voice. </p><p>When Bob Dylan wrote the song, he didn’t know what Jonathan was going through at this exact moment, yet the words seemed to pin point his exact feelings. Bob Newby had no idea the internal turmoil going on inside Jonathan, yet at the same time the look he gave seemed to understand everything.</p><p>A nice guy who isn’t popular, isn’t cool, and just gets by. No girls, no friends. </p><p>Maybe Jonathan and the Bobs weren’t so different after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Back in February I had the privilege of going to see the Bob Dylan musical “Girl From the North Country” on Broadway (about two weeks before Broadway was shut down because of the pandemic). The song called “I Want You” was not  only beautifully sung, but it conveyed a feeling that so many of us out there have had when we want to be with someone so badly. I think for Jonathan this really applies. I tried to be slightly more subtle and not make it all about him and Nancy while at the same time talking about Bob Newby. In the show we get only subtle clues to what Jonathan thinks of Bob and the relationship he has with Joyce, but I think that it was a pretty big deal for him. Anyway, I hope you like it. Below I have a link to the YouTube video of the song sung by the people from Broadway which I encourage all to listen to. It is hauntingly beautiful:</p><p>https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=p8B_WUtJXME</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. 9:35 PM</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Post Season 3:  Time jump to after season three when the Byers move to their new home.  Will, El, and Joyce are making something of their new lives while Jonathan still lives in the past.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Post Season 3	<br/>Life in Indianapolis wasn’t at all what Joyce had promised her kids.  She assured them a fresh start, a new home, a life away from constant worry, pain, and harm.  After all that had happened in Hawkins, the memories of horror and the love she’d lost, no one would blame her for wanting to leave.  <br/>	But it wasn’t exactly what she promised. <br/>	Will and El began high school with the hope of making friends, learning new things, and gaining a sense of confidence they never had.  For El, it was a chance at a normal life.  Sure, she missed Mike and her heart longed to be around the boy who accepted her before anyone else ever did, but she was feeling positively about her new life.  There was so much in Hawkins that she was glad she left behind.  Monsters, secret labs, but most of all the painful memories of a hard-headed, rude, loving father figure that she missed more than her heart could express.  Most night she’d lay in her small-yet-cozy bedroom in the tiny house Joyce purchased and dream of her evenings watching Miami Vice with Hopper.  Since he died she couldn’t bring herself to watch the show.<br/>	For Will it meant a new town where the kids didn’t think of him as a weirdo or a zombie.  For the first time in three years, he was able to just blend in and be one of the crowd.  No more threats of the Upside Down, Shadow Monsters, or evil Russians trying to kill them.  He could just be a kid, focus on his art, and enjoy the life he was supposed to have before all the events of 1983.<br/>	For El and Will, it was a better life.<br/>	Jonathan, well, not much about his life improved.  He was never honest with himself about it, but things seemed to go down hill pretty quickly.  One would think he’d be used to a life with no friends, but having had Nancy in his life for so long he’d forgotten what it was like to be completely alone in school.  As a senior, he was basically checked out mentally, but he still needed to keep his grades up in order to get into college.  He had no friends, nobody spoke to him, and all he could do was day dream about his future with Nancy. <br/>	They had so many plans: first, they would both get into schools in New York.  For him, it would be NYU and her, Columbia.  Rather than live on campus, they’d get an apartment together and enjoy each other’s company every day.  Eventually, after they graduated, he would propose, they would get jobs, buy a house, pursue careers, and live happily ever after.  Every night at 9:35, Nancy would call him and they would talk about that fantasy.  It was something she never would have imagined herself being happy about, but for some reason she was. <br/>	Her 9:35 phone calls were the only part of Indianapolis Jonathan liked.  It was the agreed upon time they’d come up with after factoring in what time Jonathan got home from his job at the grocery store (he’d gotten a job in the seafood department and hated every minute of it).  Every evening, he’d wait on pins and needles for that call. <br/>	“Hello?” he’d say like he didn’t know exactly who was on the other line. <br/>	“Hey there,” she’d sound so cool, so sexy, “how was work?”<br/>	“Same old thing.  People love their cleaned porgies.  How was babysitting?”  Recently Nancy had taken up a job babysitting a neighbor’s toddler to save up money for their New York apartment.  When she wasn’t babysitting she was tutoring students or working on college applications.  Jonathan really loved how determined Nancy was to make a life for them.  <br/>	“Oh my gosh, baby Kelly would not stop crying all day.  Nothing I did worked until I went to do a load of her laundy and sat her down on top of the dryer.  She must have liked the motion of the machine because she finally stopped fussing.”  Jonathan laughed at the vision of Nancy plopping a child on top of a dryer.  He just loved everything about her. “How’s school?”<br/>	He didn’t want her to know that he was a loser again. <br/>	“It was good,” he lied, “my classes are good and the other kids are cool.  It’s not bad.  How’s Hawkins?”<br/>	“Same as it was last night!”  She giggled and his heart melted a little. <br/>	“I miss you,” he admitted after a moment or two of silence, “I know I say that every night.  You’re probably sick of hearing it by now but-.”<br/>	“I miss you too!”  In the background, Nancy could hear the door to Jonathan’s house open and a man’s voice was speaking. <br/>	“Who’s that?” she questioned.  Jonathan took a deep, deep breath. <br/>	That was the part about Indianapolis he hated the most. <br/>	The part his mother didn’t warn the family about. <br/>	The unwanted visitor that somehow made his way back into Joyce’s life. <br/>	“It’s Lonnie,” Jonathan muttered, somehow ashamed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>When I planned out this story, I included little stories between seasons 2 and 3 but just never wrote them.  I feel like so many people have written so many great fan fics about those times that it seems a little ridiculous to write them again.  We know how Jonathan and Nancy fall in love during seasons 2 and 3, so I wanted to do something more original.  I hope you all enjoy the time jump and like the originality of the stories to come.  As always, feedback is always welcome, positive and negative.  You all make me a better writer with your comments!</p>
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